I have been across the US many times over, with kids, with husband, with coworkers, and alone. I have developed some helpful travel habits along the way and I am always searching for new ones. Moreover, I really enjoy traveling, especially with the family. So I have kind of dubbed myself "travel queen," (somewhat in jest and in private only). I admit that I do not travel as much as some people, but when it comes to my kids, I definitely consider myself well-traveled, sometimes even the "travel queen." So imagine my surprise when I was slapped in the face with the cold, hard truth last Wednesday at 5:40am. I am, indeed, NOT the travel queen. I know this because I saw the real travel queen up close and in person, with her royal travel family. I was in awe. I first spied them in the parking shuttle across from me, this cute little family. They had gotten out of their parked car and onto the shuttle bus: a young father, mother, and a little 8 or 9 month old boy. The father carried the little boy and the mother carried her medium sized purse/diaper bag and one suitcase. Yes, ONE suitcase. It wasn't one of those huge suitcases that you have to weigh in the bathroom after you are done packing to make sure you are under the 50 pound limit, either. It was a small, carry-on suitcase, and not stuffed to burst. I looked back and forth between them trying to comprehend the situation- two grown adults and a baby traveling with one, ONE suitcase. I stared openly in fascination and awe. I wanted to speak to them, confirm that they were real, but my jaw hung open and I was completely tongue-tied. How could I, a mere travel serf speak to the royal family of travel? I imagined myself engaging them in conversation, they looked friendly enough (even at 5:40am)... "Hello, what a beautiful little boy, and so well behaved this early in the morning. I couldn't help noticing that your entire family is traveling with only one suitcase, and a small one at that. I admire your preparation and confidence, you obviously know a lot more about traveling with babies than I do. But, really, I can't help wondering where is the rest of your luggage? Where are the baby toys for the plane and the extra diapers and the books, the chewy snacks for air pressure changes, the frozen snacks, the portable DVD player with headsets and your computer and extra changes of clothes and your swimsuits, just in case, and your toiletries and ear plugs and stroller and pack-n-play and carseat?? Where on earth are you going that you only need ONE bag? ONE LOUSY BAG? What is in there anyway?!?"
Instead of speaking, however, I rationalized. Obviously the father and son were taking mommy to the airport and seeing her off, which is why they parked the car. And they parked in extended parking only because they weren't savvy enough to know the difference between hourly and long-term rates. Yes, that was it. I mollified myself with the thought that after daddy and baby waved bye-bye to mommy, they would ride back in the same shuttle and have to pay $7.25 for parking. I even smiled a little to myself. I dragged my bulging suitcase off the shuttle, checked in and shuffled through security. Moments later, while being patted down by the female TSA guard (avoid baggy sweatshirts in the security line), I saw them again. All three members of the beautiful family breezing through the airport, yards past the security checkpoint, home-printed boarding passes in hand. The prince was once again in the arms of the king as the queen walked briskly beside them, rolling the royal suitcase.
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